Sometimes I worry that I've lost the plot. My twitchin' muscles tease my flippant thoughts.
I never really dreamed of heaven much until we put him in the ground, but it's all I'm doing now
- listening for patterns in the sound of an endless static sea. ~ Conor Oberst

July 15, 2006

Yesterday while listening to Ryan Adams' Cold Roses I was struck by the lyrics of these two songs. They are the last two songs on the first disc of this really good double album. These songs are beautiful.Mockingbirdsing

Mockingbirds singSing me what the Lord was singingOn the day He made the waterThe color of the bluesSing me that songSing me to till the heavens risingOn the day He made the waterThe color of my baby's eyesLove her in the ways you want to be lovedLove her in the ways she wants to be lovedLove her in the ways you want to be lovedBut the way I'm loving herIt must not be enoughCause in the way she criesIt only tears me upI feel dead inside and dyingAnd if you give upDon't give up on loveDon't give up on loveThe rivers they runThey run until they get too tiredUntil they run behind the housesAnd they become a creekWhen I was a childI ran until the creek became a riverWhen it turned into the oceanI wondered why He'd made it so deepLove her in the ways you want to be lovedLove her in the ways you want to be lovedLove her in the ways you want to be lovedBut the way I'm loving herMust not be enoughCause the way she criesIt only tears me upI feel dead inside and dyingDon't give upCause in a way she's cryingIt only tears me upI feel dead inside and dyingGive upDon't give up on loveDon't give up on loveLove her in the ways you want to be lovedLove her in the ways you want to be lovedLove her in the ways you want to be lovedSometimes it ain't enoughSometimes it ain't enoughBut don't give up on love

Lord, I miss that girlOn the day we met the sun was shining downDown on the valleyRiddled with horses runningCrushing them with flowersI would have picked for herOn the day she was bornShe runs through my veins like a long black riverAnd rattles my cage like a thunderstormOh my soulWhat does it mean?What does it mean?What does it mean to be so sad?When someone you loveSomeone you love is supposed to make you happyWhat do you doHow do you keep love alive?When it won'tWhat, what are the wordsThey use when they know it's over"We need to talk," or"I'm confused, maybe later you can come over"I would've held your mother's handOn the day you was bornShe runs through my veinsLike a long black river and rattles my cageLike a thunderstormOh, my soulWhat does it mean?What does it mean?What does it mean to be so sad?When someone you loveSomeone you love is supposed to make you happyWhat do you doHow do you keep love alive?When it won't

We are lonesome animals. We spend all of our life trying to be less lonesome. One of our ancient methods is to tell a story begging the listener to say-and to feel- ‘Yes, that is the way it is, or at least that is the way I feel it.’ You’re not as alone as you thought. —John Steinbeck